


Build to Last

by novemberhush



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale pack, And a pack, And if she’s alive then I imagine Boyd is too, Because I don’t like splitting them up, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Hell kill off someone who actually lived in canon if you want, If there’s anyone else you’d rather stayed dead feel free to imagine them so here, M/M, Married Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles and Derek are raising a daughter, The pack take bets on how it’s going to turn out, Well Erica’s alive anyway, Written for the prompt ‘Building an IKEA cabinet together’, You do you babe, but that’s just me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:35:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28078560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novemberhush/pseuds/novemberhush
Summary: Stiles and Derek have faced all kinds of threats together, supernatural and otherwise, and lived to tell the tale. They’ve fought rogue hunters and taken down literal monsters. They’re raising a daughter and leading a pack that’s become one of the most powerful in North America, all while juggling successful careers.Compared to all that, building one little IKEA cabinet together should be no problem, right?The pack have differing ideas on that and they’re willing to put their money where their mouths are.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 12
Kudos: 132





	Build to Last

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elysiumwaits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiumwaits/gifts).



> Hey! So the incredibly talented elysiumwaits wrote some amazing stories for me based on prompts I sent her over on tumblr and this was my totally inadequate attempt at repaying her even a little for those wonderful stories. I’ll be honest, I thought I’d never get this story finished, it fought me all the way, but I did it in the end. I hope when you read it you won’t think I should have just given up on it! Anyway, as stated in the tags, the prompt elysiumwaits gave me was ‘Building an IKEA cabinet together’. Also, I imagine the daughter called Rose that Stiles and Derek are raising in this fic is the same Rose from my drabble _Briar Rose_ , but you don’t need to read it to understand this story (although I’d of course be very happy if you did decide to read it!). I hope you enjoy the story. :-)

They’re not stupid. They know the rest of the pack are placing bets (because when it comes to running a book the Mob’s got nothing on Erica Reyes) on how long it’ll be before they start arguing. They’d tell them to save their time, money and effort if it wasn’t so much fun watching them try to keep the whole operation a secret.

Stiles thinks they should be a little offended, actually. After all, Matt may have been a murdery douchebag, but he was right when he said they made a pretty good pair. 

A pretty good _team_.

A team that’s built not only a pack, but a family. Not just a house, but a home. No mere existence, but a _life_.

They’ve built successful careers, working hard, side by side every day, to help each other achieve their individual dreams as well as their shared ones. Stiles is practically a shoo-in for sheriff when his dad retires next year (he protests that it’s not a foregone conclusion, but the rest of the town knows otherwise), while Derek’s gardening business has gone from strength to strength the past few years.

They’ve re-established the Hale Pack as one of the most powerful in the country, known to be beneficent where possible, welcoming supernatural entities in need into their territory, but fiercely loyal to, and protective of, each other and not afraid to do what needs to be done if someone (or something) threatens, hurts or betrays one of their own. 

They’ve given a family, a home, a sense of finally _belonging_ , to the pack they’ve assembled. 

Compared to all that, what’s one IKEA cabinet, right? 

Derek warns Stiles against hubris when he says these things. Reminds him that for all their successes as a team they’re still more than capable of blowing up at one another every now and then.

Stiles simply smirks and mutters, “That’s just foreplay for us, babe.”

And he’s right, for the most part. Most of their fights these days do end up in, at the very least, a hot and heavy make up, make out session. (Hell, that was how they first got together.)

But then there’s the other fights. The ones that revolve around Stiles being mad at Derek for pulling some of that self-sacrificing crap they’ve been working hard on eliminating from his repertoire (although they both know it’ll never be entirely erased because, Alpha or not, Derek’s never going to just sit back and do nothing when someone he loves is in danger). The ones where Derek is mad at Stiles for rushing headlong into danger, forgetting he’s still just a human (albeit a strong, intelligent, downright awesome one) and not a supernatural being with superhuman strength or agility or the same ability to heal from wounds that werewolves are blessed with.

Those arguments generally end up with them in each other’s arms too, but with less of the mindblowing sex and more of the urgent clinging to each other, hearts beating wildly as hands fumble to chests, needing to feel that beat for themselves. They end in whispered words of love and reassurance and forgiveness. In soft pets and desperate kisses and the breathing in of each other’s scent.

But none of that is going to apply this time Stiles declares. Because they’re not going to argue. Not over something as simple as the assembling of Rose’s new bedside cabinet, a place for her to store all her favourite books and toys so they’re within easy reach come bedtime. After all, it’s not like they haven’t done this before. They’ve put together practically every piece of furniture in her room over the past seven years, starting with the crib they bought when they took her in, a tiny little thing, the only survivor of a massacre by rogue hunters that took out her entire family and pack. 

Of course, most of the rest of the pack were away at college or travelling around Europe or South America at the time and so weren’t around much to witness the way they worked together like a well-oiled machine, rebuilding the Hale house and turning it into the _Stilinski_ -Hale house, making it a home for themselves, their newly adopted daughter and any members of the pack who might wish to return there to live. Theoretically they had to know the place hadn’t just sprung fully formed into existence by itself, but it hadn’t seemed to click with any of them that it was all down to Stiles and Derek.

Derek suspected they thought it was all thanks to John and Melissa (who had certainly helped where they could) while Stiles was sure they thought fairies or pixies or some such beings were to thank. But the truth was, with the occasional helping hand here and there from John and Melissa, Stiles and Derek had put this house together themselves, room by room, every lick of paint and stick of furniture, and they’d done it all without murdering each other or causing irreparable damage to their relationship.

No, they were _not_ going to argue. Stiles had declared it so and so it must be.

They didn’t argue when Stiles misplaced the instructions, delaying them for the best part of an hour and earning them many surreptitious glances from those in the pack who had placed a wager (so basically everyone) and were waiting to see if things would kick off.

They didn’t argue when Derek dropped the surprisingly heavy cabinet door on Stiles’ foot, causing him to let out a squeak the pack would never let him live down followed by a string of curse words Rose was practically guaranteed to bust out in front of her shocked grandfather or every one of her most judgmental teachers at school.

They didn’t even argue when Stiles accidentally stabbed Derek in the hand with a screwdriver or when the cabinet was finally completed and Derek trapped Stiles’ fingers in the drawer when he was testing if it ran smoothly but got distracted and closed it rather firmly not realizing that Stiles’ was reaching into it to retrieve a wrench at the time. It did, though. Run smoothly, that is.

Much more smoothly than Erica’s little gambling operation by the looks of it. Nursing their wounds, both those to their bodies and those to their pride (it had taken them three hours and several mishaps to build one little cabinet, they really were slipping), they watched on (rather smugly, it must be said) as the pack surrounded Erica like, well, an angry pack, demanding their money back and threatening all kinds of violence and heinous comeuppances if she didn’t comply forthwith.

Eventually taking pity on the beleaguered blonde bookie wannabe Stiles weighed into the middle of proceedings, signalling for the pack to simmer down. When they finally did, Stiles made a show of relieving Erica of all the money she held.

Smirk fixed in place as securely as the door on his little girl’s new cabinet Stiles looked around the pack, making sure he had their undivided attention. “First rule of gambling,” he announced, taking in the expectant faces gathered around him, “the house always wins. Second rule of gambling, the house _always_ wins. Third rule of gambling. The. House. Always. Wins.” 

Pausing for dramatic effect, because that was just the kind of asshole he was, he didn’t even try to hide his grin as he prepared to bestow his final piece of wisdom on the group.”

“And as this is the Stilinski-Hale house, on behalf of Derek, Rose and myself I gratefully accept your kind donations today to its running and upkeep. Thank you very much, suckers,” he teased, tucking the wad of bills into the pocket of his hoodie amid much groaning and bellyaching and cries of “Unfair!” from the rest of the pack.

“Now, now, none of that!” he tutted. “You brought this on yourselves and you’ve learned two very valuable lessons here today. One, gambling is a fool’s game, and, two...”

“Two?” Derek asked, piping up from the back of the group.

Stiles met his eye and smiled, not the sharp grin or smug smirk of before, but that softer smile reserved for Derek and Rose only.

“ _Never_ bet against me and the big guy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. If you feel like sharing your thoughts on the story please feel free to do so, either here in the comments section or over on tumblr where I’m also known as novemberhush. Stay safe. xxx


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